The Heart Of The Matter
by purplepagoda
Summary: When Brian suggests commitment Olivia flips out. Will she finally come clean about her night in Vegas decades ago? It seems this detective still has a few secrets up her sleeve.
1. Dirty Laundry

He looks over at her, as she sits on his couch. He takes a seat on the arm of the couch.

"Can I ask you something?"

She looks up from the newspaper, "Sure," she nods, with a hint of irritation in her voice, as this is only the third time he's interrupted her in five minutes.

"Why are you so afraid of commitment?"

"That is a great question, Brian."

"And the answer?"

"I am not going to answer that," she insists.

"What would you say if I asked you to marry me, right now?"

"Don't press your luck," she warns.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?"

"We are not there yet."

"What if we were?"

She scowls at him, "You should drop it."

"What are you getting so testy about?"

"I don't want to get married."

"Now, or ever?"

She shrugs, "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"Or, you just don't want to marry me."

"Marriage is not all that it is cracked up to be," she counters.

"You have first hand knowledge of this?"

Without thinking she answers, maybe a bit too quickly, "Yes."

He furrows his brow, "You've never been married."

She doesn't say anything."

"Have you?"

"Why are you asking me all of these questions?"

"I was thinking, we should just do it."

"Do what?"

"Get married. Neither of us are getting any younger. I don't really think that there is much more we can learn about each other. Let's just do it. We can fly out to Vegas, or go to Atlantic city for the weekend, and just get hitched."

"Not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"I don't know that I want to be married."

"At all, or just to me?"

"Let's not rush things," she warns.

"You've never been married have you?"

"Have I ever said that I was?"

"No, but I don't really recall you ever say you weren't either. It is something I just assumed, because you never talk about being married, or widowed, or divorced. Then, again, that doesn't mean much with you. You always leave lots of details out. And, you have a tendency to dance around questions."

"Whatever you say."

"Olivia I am asking you, have you ever been married?"

"Have you?" she responds.

"You know that I haven't."

"So can we move on, please?"

"What do you say? Have you ever been to Las Vegas?"

"Yes," she replies.

"You have?"

"Hasn't everyone been to Vegas once in their life?"

"I've never been there."

"You have never been there?" she shoots him a questioning look.

"Never," he admits.

"You aren't missing much," she reveals.

"What did you go there for?"

"The same reason everyone does, to gamble."

"But..."

"I went with a group of friends. One of my friends won a free trip for four. She invited me, so I went along."

"How was it?"

"Awful."

"You didn't win any money?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Did you do anything you regret?"

"Brian I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"Why are you being so testy?"

"Because you refuse to listen to what I am saying."

"Why does everything have to be such a secret with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There are still things that you don't tell me."

"I have never told anyone everything."

"I know you think pouring your heart out comes back to bite you in the ass, but all I am asking for is a little bit of honesty."

She places her newspaper on the coffee table. She grabs her purse off the floor, and gets off the couch.

"Where are you going?" he quizzes.

"I'm going home," she answers approaching the door.

"Liv don't be like that. I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about that anymore."

She pulls the door open. She turns and looks at him, "See you later," she slams the door shut.

When she gets home she crawls into the bathtub. She sits in the bathtub thinking about her conversation. She feels a twinge of guilt. If only he knew the half of it. Everyone has secrets, and she's no different. She is entitled to have secrets. She is allowed to have a past, just like he is allowed to be angry.

She stares at her painted toenails. They rest near the faucet. She tries not to go digging up old memories, but she isn't the one who brought it up. She is only trying to shield him from the can of worms he's almost opened. There are just some secrets that you don't want to share with your significant other.

There are some secrets that you shouldn't share at all. Sometimes sharing secrets causes people to shed a new light on you. That light might not always be very flattering. In fact it might be down right ugly. There are some secrets that you don't want to share at all. And there are some secrets you don't even want to share with the people who were there. The ones who know, because they are part of the secret.


	2. Secrets, Lies, and Confessions

_June 7th 1996-_

_Olivia is at the hotel with three of her friends from college. Two of whom already married with children. Olivia looks around at the hotel. She hopes that this isn't a representation of the best Las Vegas has to offer. It may be called the Imperial Palace, but there is nothing royal about it. _

_By the time she gets to the room she realizes that this weekend may not be quite as exciting as she hoped. Judging by the carpet that she is fairly certain hasn't been replaced since the placed opened, she is more likely to catch some sort of disease, than have any fun._

* * *

_June 8th, 1996-_

_As she slowly regains consciousness she can feel a splitting headache. She opens her eyes, and quickly realizes that she isn't in her room. Maybe she's in one of the girl's rooms, she hopes, as it hits her that she isn't alone in the room. She shifts, underneath the covers. She rolls over, and finds someone passed out next to her. He's handsome, but he isn't much older than a frat boy. She reminds herself that she is twenty eight, and she is a little too old for this sort of shenanigan. _

_"Unbelievable," she mutters under her breath, trying to recall the events of the previous night._

_The man lying next to her opens his eyes. He looks at her, but doesn't move. He lays with his head turned towards her, and his bare back exposed. She looks at his face for a moment, and then notices the claw marks on his back. She sighs, in disbelief at her poor judgment._

_"Good morning," he smiles at her._

_"I should go," she insist, in embarrassment _

_"What's the rush?"_

_"I don't know what happened last night, but whatever happened, it was a mistake."_

_"I hope not," he argues._

_"Why is that?"_

_He rubs his eye, and then answers, "I've been awake for a while. I was just waiting on you," he begins._

_"You could have left, it would have been ok."_

_"I wanted to."_

_"Then why are you still here?"_

_"Because A, I am pretty sure this is my room."_

_"Okay."_

_"And B, when I woke up this morning I went into the bathroom to pee..." he trails off._

_"Is there something, or someone in the bathroom?"_

_"I was washing my hands, and I noticed something."_

_"What?"_

_He points to her hand, "You've got one too."_

_She looks down at her hand. She stares at the gold band in disbelief, "No."_

_"I think we got married last night."_

_"You can't remember, either?" She questions in complete shock._

_"I remember seeing you at the roulette wheel, and thinking how beautiful you were."_

_"I don't remember any of that."_

_"You had been drinking. My buddy dared me to ask if I could buy you a drink."_

_"Drinks are free," she points out._

_"That is the last thing that I remember."_

_"I don't even know your name."_

_"That is going to be a problem, since you're my wife."_

_"How old are you? Like twelve?"_

_"Twenty two."_

_"You have got to be kidding me. I got drunk, and I married some twenty two year old frat boy, in a quicky, Vegas ceremony? Unbelievable."_

_"I'm not a frat boy."_

_"It doesn't matter. We've got to get this annulled. Maybe this is some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe our friends are playing some sort of sick joke on us. Maybe we didn't really get married."_

_"I am pretty sure we did."_

_"Maybe not."_

_"We definitely slept together," he points out._

_Suddenly she realizes that the only thing she is wearing is a sheet. _

_"Shit!"_

_"I'm sorry that you don't remember."_

_"Maybe it is better that I don't."_

_"You don't want to remember our honeymoon," he jokes._

_"This is definitely not the honeymoon suite. In fact this room is worse than mine."_

_"Yeah there is a humongous spider taking up residence in the bathroom."_

_"Thank you for warning me."_

_"So now what?"_

_"I leave, and we get this annulled, if it really happened. And then we never speak to each other ever again."_

_"Is now a good time to say I don't really believe in divorce?"_

_"You have got to be kidding me. It isn't divorce if the marriage lasts less than a day. That is an annulment."_

_"Everything happens for a reason. I am sure that last night we had a good reason for getting married."_

_"I can't think of one."_

* * *

She rolls towards the sound of the ringing phone. She's half-asleep on the couch. She reaches for the phone that is lying on the coffee table. She presses talk, and puts it to her ear without checking the caller I.D.

"Benson," she answers with a yawn.

"Hey it's me. Look I'm sorry everything I said to you earlier."

"Brian it's ok."

"I feel bad. I never should have questioned you."

"It's ok."

"I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

"I am over it."

"I'm not. Look Olivia I want to make it up to you."

"Not tonight," she argues, "I'm really tired."

"I am really sorry for flipping my lid."

"You're right there are things that I don't tell you."

"Everyone who has ever been in a relationship holds something back from the one that they are with. It's ok."

"It's really not."

"I have to get to work, I'll talk to you later."

"Ok, bye," she hangs up.


	3. Rerun

She's always been good at hiding things. She's spent most of her life doing what she should. She is reliable, and trustworthy. She sits on the edge of her bed. She pulls open the drawer of her nightstand. She reaches inside, and pulls out an old Altoid tin. She opens it up, and finds a wadded tissue. She un-wads the tissue and looks at what's inside. She stares at the gold band in silence. She tries not to allow herself to go down memory lane, but it always proves to be difficult. The moment that he stepped into her life years ago, everything changed.

If only anyone knew the real her. The Olivia Benson with a past full of secrets. A treasure trove of secrets. They aren't little secrets. Her secrets are life changing, soul consuming secrets. She looks at the gold wedding band, and feels regret.

She doesn't regret getting the band. She doesn't regret waking up in Las Vegas next to a twenty two year old. What she regrets most is everything that happened afterwards. She regrets the way she allowed things to get so out of hand. He isn't the one who got away. He is the one who she shoved out of her life, when she got tired of trying to make it wonders how her life would be different if she stayed. She wonders where they would be now. Would he hate her? Would she feel so guilty? Would her secrets consume her like they do now?

She looks at the clock, and reminds herself that she can't turn back the hands of time. She puts the gold band back in the tissue, and stuffs it back in the old Altoid box. She slides out of the bed, and picks up the phone. She dials a familiar number. The party on the other end of the line picks up after two rings.

"Hello?" he answers.

"We need to talk."

"Olivia we were done talking a long time ago. You know that."

"I think we need to figure out a way to learn to be a little more amicable."

"What's the point?"

"Please."

"Look I'm busy, this is going to have to wait."

"I..." she begins to argue.

"I'll see you later," he reminds her, he hangs up before she has a chance to respond.

* * *

_June 8th 1996-_

_She stands on the balcony of the hotel room. She tries to take in some fresh air, but in all honesty she just wants a cigarette, and she's never smoked. She feels frustrated, and let down by her friends, but mostly herself. She's wearing a man's dress shirt. The only thing that she can see from the balcony is the parking lot, and more of the same building. She hears the door slide open. She turns around, and finds that he's dressed._

_"I know you don't want to be married to someone you don't know," he begins._

_"Is it that obvious."_

_"Will you hear me out?"_

_"Yeah," she nods._

_"Let me buy you breakfast. We can gamble a little. You can spend a couple of hours getting to know me..." _

_She cuts him off, "I don't want to stay married."_

_"Just hear me out," he insists._

_"Ok," she nods, in agreement._

_"Spend a few hours getting to know me, and then if you can't stand me, and hate my guts, or you just don't feel anything, I'll let you go."_

_"You promise?"_

_"Yeah," he nods in agreement._

_"Ok."_

_"So why don't you go to your room and get changed? I'll wait here for you."_

_"Ok," she agrees. _

* * *

She takes a seat next to him at a baseball game. They had gone to a baseball game the day she found out that they were married. Some traditions die hard. Still, every now and then they meet to take in a game, and catch up. Although lately it was more fighting, than catching up. Even though they've been apart for so long, she can still remember what it was like to be together. Without a word he looks over at her. He hands her a beer. He chews a wad of gum, and turns his hat around backwards.

"Brian wants to get married," she reveals.

"Did you tell him?"

"What?" she raises a brow.

"That you don't ever want to be married, again?"

"I left out that last part."

He nods, "So you didn't mention the part where you took your wedding band, and chucked it at me, when you walked out the door?"

"No."

"So I'm guessing that, like everyone else you know, he doesn't know that you've ever been married."

"No."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I doubt it," she admits.

"Are you ever going to tell anyone?"

She shrugs, "Maybe one day."

"Maybe one day you'll have to," he argues.

"Are you going to make me?"

"Olivia I have never made you do anything that you didn't want to," he points out.

"Except get married," she disagrees.

"I still think that you wanted that," he adds.

"I didn't come here to argue."

"What did you want to talk about?"

She shrugs, "I don't know where to start."

"Olivia you're only as sick as your secrets, and face it, you have a lot of them."

"I was there, I know."

"I am the only other person who knows, your mother is dead."

"I don't want to alienate everyone."

"So it's better to just lie to everyone all of the time?"

"No one asks, so it's not a lie."

"It's an omission. It is the same thing," he argues.

"Why do we always have to argue about semantics?"

"Because it is what we have always done best."

She smirks, "That isn't what we did best."

"I know."

"Did you file your divorce papers?" she changes the subject sensing he doesn't want to go down memory lane with her.

"I don't know if I am ready for that yet."

"You've done it once. It should be easier the second time."

"It's never easy," he shakes his head.


	4. Still

She looks over at him, and she can see the pain in his eyes. She swallows hard.

"I am sorry that I brought it up," she admits.

"Nah, it's ok. I am going to have to deal with it eventually."

"I always seem to bring up things you don't want to talk about."

"It happens. You've known me such a long time."

"We have been divorced far longer than we were ever together," she points out.

"We were only married for about a minute and half," he responds.

"It seem like it, doesn't it?"

"In the grand scheme of things three and a half years is not very long."

"It was four years before it was final," she reminds him.

He rolls his eyes, "Four years to the day."

"And I suppose that I am to blame for that, too."

"Olivia we have spent so much time blaming each other, and hating each other. It isn't worth it. We both know that isn't how either of us feels. We don't hate each other."

"But we certainly know how to press each others buttons," she recalls.

"We were so young. Neither one of us was ready to be married."

"You were just a baby."

"I was more ready for marriage than you were," he insists.

She nods, "And you probably still are."

"So are you going to marry him?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"You can't let fear get the best of you every time."

"I don't know if he is someone I want to spend the rest of my life with."

"Then why are you with him?"

"He's safe."

"It is funny how time changes people, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" she raises an eyebrow.

"We got divorced because you refused to play it safe. You always wanted to run into the line of fire. That is a major reason we could never make it work. Now you're looking for the safe choice."

"We could never make it work because we're too much alike," she adds.

"That too."

"Do you think that if things were different, and we met now and got married we could make it work?" she wonders.

"That's the problem."

She furrows her brow, "That's the problem?"

"I know that it would work."

"How is that a problem?"

"Because I am still married. You have always been a bone of contention in my marriage. She is jealous of the relationship that we have, because no matter what it going on, we can still talk to each other. I think in the back of her mind she thinks I could leave her for you. It has always caused tension in our marriage."

"I never knew that. I never knew that I would become a problem in your current marriage."

"Liv life is complicated. I can't change the past, and she doesn't like that."

"I wouldn't change it."

He stares at her, with a look of surprise, "You wouldn't?"

She shakes her head, "No."

"That surprises me."

"Why?"

"Because you never talk about it. You never mention it to anyone. You refuse to even tell your boyfriend that you were married before, without telling him any of the other details."

She sighs, in frustration, "If I tell him, it's a gateway."

"For what?"

"For him to ask a lot more questions. He is going to want to know why I never told him. He is going to want to know who you are, and why we got divorced. I am just not ready to open that can of worms."

"With him, or with the world?"

"It is the one thing in the world that is scared. Most of my private life has become public knowledge, despite my attempts to keep it private."

"I don't want to fight with you. Let's keep this amicable. You know this is the one thing that we could never agree on."

Olivia breaks eye contact. She looks forward, past the people sit in front of her. She looks out on the field. She looks past home plate, towards the mound. She nudges her ex-husband.

"Look who is up to pitch."

He smiles widely, "Finally someone who knows what they're doing."

"They can't all be superstars," she reminds him.

"You're right. It wouldn't be fair if they were all that good."

"Maybe you're biased you've been rooting for that pitcher for ten years."

"Eleven," he corrects her.

* * *

After the game she sits in a pizza parlor. She laughs like she hasn't laughed in years. Her ex-husband sits across the table from her. His kids sit by them. His wife is notably absent. Olivia stares at the faces around the table. They all stare back at her with smiles, and bright eyes. For a moment she allows herself to wonder how things may have been different. She wonders how her life would have been, if she had made better choices. What if she had stayed, instead of running away when things got tough? This could be her life. Married with a few kids. Instead of alone, and a little bitter.

All too soon the table is empty, and they have paid the check. They go their separate ways. He takes the kids home, with bellies full of pizza, ice cream, and soda. She heads home with a full head, and a heavy heart. When she gets home it's just after five. She takes a shower, and climbs into her pajamas anyway. She curls up on the couch, with wet hair, and flips on the T.V.

She flips through the channels hoping there will be something to distract her from her own thoughts. There is nothing mind-numbing enough to take her mind off the truth. Some things can't be changed. Like the fact that she wasn't a great wife, despite her efforts. Or the fact that when push came to shove, she ran away, instead of pushing back.

A lot of things can't be changed. Some things can. People change. Perspectives change. Time changes, but it doesn't always heal old wounds. But her mind circles back, once again to the things that can't be changed. Things that she wishes she could go back, and change. Living with regret is the hardest part of it all. And no matter how much she doesn't want to admit it, she hasn't changed that much, and neither has he. Which is exactly why she's still in love with him.


	5. Left Hand

_June 10th 1996- He slings his bag over his shoulder, as he gets out of the car. He follows her into her apartment. She digs for the keys as he kisses her neck. They can barely contain themselves. The second that they enter the apartment they drop their bags. She locks the door. He pushes her against the door, and kisses her. _

* * *

She sits on her couch, nursing a drink, thinking about how much time changes things. She wonders if they ever could have made things work. She reminds herself that she is the one who gave up. She is the one who walked when things got rough. She takes another drink from her glass. Tonight she doesn't sip a beer, or a glass of wine. She skips the champagne, and opts for something a little stronger. She stares at the mostly empty glass of bourbon. She places it back on the coaster, and sits back. Her mind races as it takes her down memory lane.

* * *

_July 1st 1999-_

_He's sitting in the kitchen reading the newspaper. He happens to be off. She enters the room, and makes a beeline for the fridge. She pours a glass of orange juice, and he stares at her. He shakes his head._

_"Where are you going?"_

_"To work," she answers._

_"Dressed like that?"_

_She cocks an eyebrow, looking down at her attire. She turns and looks at her husband._

_"Yes. What is wrong with what I am wearing?" she wonders._

_"Why are you dressed up for work."_

_"I told you we have an undercover operation."_

_"And you're the bait?"_

_"I am sorry that you don't like it, but it is work."_

_"Olivia you're my wife," he reminds her._

_She slips off her wedding band, and hands it to him. He stares at her in disbelief._

_"If you want me to continue to be your wife I can't blow this cover."_

_He shakes his head, "Unbelievable."_

* * *

It's funny how when you're looking back the good qualities don't stick out as much as the bad ones. She pours another glass, trying to drown out the past, but it doesn't work.

* * *

_June 11th, 1996_

_She rides in the car with him. He has her blindfolded. The car stops abruptly._

_"Where are we going?"_

_"We're here," he smiles in front of the house._

_"Can I take this stupid blindfold off?" she wonders._

_"Just listen for a minute," he insists._

_"Ok," she agrees._

_"I know that you think that I am young and foolish."_

_"We are still married. I told you I am willing to give you a chance."_

_"I am glad that you did."_

_"Where are we?"_

_"Now that you are my wife I feel obligated to tell you something."_

_"What?" she swallows hard, hoping he's not ready to drop a bomb._

_"When we were in Las Vegas I won some money."_

_"Look I am not worried about a couple hundred extra bucks in your bank account. Everyone needs something for themselves."_

_"It is more than a couple hundred bucks," he tells her._

_"A thousand?"_

_"Take your blind fold off," he smiles._

_She pulls the blind fold off. She looks out the car window to find that they are in the driveway of a three bedroom house, in a suburban neighborhood._

_"Do you know who lives here?" she furrows her brow._

_He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a set of keys. He hands them to her, "We do."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"It is out house."_

_"How much did you win, exactly?"_

_"After taxes, it was close to three hundred."_

_"Three hundred dollars?"_

_"Three hundred thousand," he reveals._

_"What?!"_

_"I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to stay because of the money. I wanted you to stay, because you wanted to give our marriage a shot."_

_"This is crazy. Are you serious right now?"_

_"Yeah," he beams._

_"Did the check..." she begins to question him._

_"The check cleared the bank this morning."_

_"You spent it all on a house?"_

_"No," he shakes his head, "I spent a hundred and fifty thousand on the house. The rest is a nest egg."_

_"That isn't enough for us to quit our jobs," she points out._

_"It isn't going anywhere. It is going to sit in the bank. We are going to use it to invest in our future."_

* * *

And her doubts, insecurities, and stubborn ways, that is what drove them apart. It wasn't the five year plus age different. As she climbs out of the shower she wipes the mirror off. She stares at herself in the mirror, with her towel wrapped around her. She stares at the reason her marriage didn't work out. The reason that she doesn't want to talk about it, with anyone.

He lies wide awake, in his empty bed. He and his wife have grown apart. The kids are sleeping, and the house is quiet. He is surrounded by his thoughts, and the fact that she isn't there. He tries not to let his mind go there, but he can't help it. He finds himself wishing that she is there, lying next to him. He rubs the spot on his finger where his ring belongs.

The guilt that he is longing for a woman that isn't his wife, it eats at him. His wife isn't there, and that isn't what bothers him the most. He finds himself reminiscing about the past. He keeps thinking about her. He wonders what she's doing now. He could kick himself for thinking about being his ex when he is still married. But he can't help it. She crosses his mind all of the time. She is the one who got away, the one he still misses.

Olivia is the reason his current wife isn't lying there next to him. They say it isn't. They pretend that there are other reasons, but they both know the true, despite the fact that either of them are willing to admit it. He wonders where they would be now, if things had worked. But, then again, they keep finding each other in each other's lives. He knows that she's the one who got away, but the one he can never live without. He slips off his wedding band, and lays it on the nightstand.


	6. Looking Back

_July 11th 1996-_

_She sits in the living room, on the couch, watching the morning news. She waits patiently for him to come down stairs. Finally he finishes his shower, and gets dressed. She flips off the TV as he heads down the stairs. He reaches the bottom of the stairs, and pulls the keys out his pocket._

_"Are you ready for work?"_

_"Sit down for a minute, we need to talk," she tells him._

_He looks at her. It only takes a second for him to realize that there is a packed bag by her feet. He shakes his head, and folds his arms across his chest._

_"I would rather stand."_

_"Please."_

_"Liv, what's going on?"_

_"This is too much, too fast. I just need some time. I don't know if I'm ready for this."_

_"You don't know if you're ready for this?"_

_"I don't know if I am ready to be a wife. I want a career. I don't want..."_

_He cuts her off, "You don't want the same things that I do. You don't want to be my wife, and have my children, and live happily ever after?"_

_She shakes her head, "I didn't say that."_

_"Then what are you saying?"_

_"I am going to go back to my apartment, tonight after work. I need some time alone."_

_"Ok. Then what?"_

_"I have to figure out what I want for myself, before I can be with you."_

_"Olivia if your heart isn't in this, then you shouldn't stay," he tells her._

_"You are the one who keeps telling me that you don't believe in divorce."_

_"I don't. I also don't believe in staying with someone, if you're unhappy, either. We have give this a month. I don't know if that is enough time, to say that we really tried. I mean we are still getting to know each other. I wish I could change your mind, but I respect you enough to let you do your own thing."_

* * *

She wonders how different her life might have been if she had left the first time, and never come back. She wonders if she would have the career she has now. The one she wanted so badly. The career she sacrificed everything for. It's funny how the things you want the most, can be the ones you end up hating the most. As she tosses from side to side the thought of regret plagues her.

* * *

_July 25th, 1996-_

_He's halfway asleep, on the couch, dozing to the evening news, when the sound of someone at the door wakes him up. He sits up, and looks at the door. He grabs the first weapon he can find. The person on the other side of the door doesn't knock. He watches as the door pushes open. The party on the other side steps inside. He lowers his weapon, when he sees who it is. _

_"You're soaked," he comments._

_"It's pouring out there," she admits, as she sets her bag down, closing the door behind her._

_"What are you doing here?" he queries._

_"We need to talk," she admits._

_"What is there to talk about? You have barely spoken to me in two weeks. You've been at your place. I've been here, in this empty house."_

_"I'm sorry."_

* * *

He sips his morning coffee, sitting at his desk, at work. He wonders what life would have been like, if she walked out on him, in the middle of the July, and had never returned. He wonders if their paths would have ever crossed again. Would he have ever seen her face again, or known what happened to her? The phone at his desk rings, and he answers. After a brief conversation he hangs up the phone.

As he waits for his co-workers to arrive his mind continues to wander. He thinks of all of the missed opportunities they have had. There are so many things they have left unsaid. He wishes he could go back, and make her stay. If only he could have convinced her never to walk away. They would be together, instead of at odds all the time.

His glance turns to his left hand. There is a tan line, where his ring once was. His wedding band is noticeably missing. A decision that he has only recently made. He knows it is better to walk away, from a loveless marriage, than to stay to keep kids out of a broken home. He knows he can't stay married, when he is still in love with someone else. His co-worker walks into the room, and flashes a smile.

"Where is your ring?"

He just shrugs. His co-worker doesn't push it any farther, knowing when to let things lie.

* * *

_July 25th 1996-_

_He steps forward. Without a second thought he presses his lips against hers. _

_"I love you," he reminds her. _

_"We need to talk."_

_He studies the look on her face. He notices the look of fear in her eyes. He swallows hard, and points to the couch. He takes a seat next to her, and finally has the courage to ask, "What is it?"_

_"I've had a lot of time to think," she admits._

_"Yeah?"_

_"I don't want to be alone."_

_"But, you're scared?'_

_"What if we can't make this work?"_

_"All we can do is try."_

_"I want to try. I want to make this marriage work."_

_"Olivia what is on your mind? You know that you can tell me anything."_

_"It's just that, I still barely know you. We got married the day that we met. Every time I see you I learn something knew about you."_

_"What are you afraid of?"_

_"What if we aren't compatible? What if we grow apart?"_-

* * *

Olivia looks over at her partner. They are at a crime scene. He stares at the lifeless body of a ten year old. Her partner listens to Melinda, carefully as she squats next to the body. He swallows hard.

"Are you going to be alright?" Olivia questions.

Nick simply nods, "Yeah."

"I know that these kinds of cases always bother you," she points out.

"Don't they bother you too?"

"I think they bother everyone," she admits.


	7. Closer

_July 25th 1996-_

_"Olivia are you ok? Are you sure that you want to do this?"_

_"Not entirely."_

_"What made you come back? What made you change your mind?"_

_"Everything changes. Everyone changes."_

_"That's true."_

_"The things you don't anticipate happen, and catch you completely off guard."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Like I said earlier, I have something to tell you."_

_"Ok," he nods, "just tell me."_

_"I think that..." she trails off._

_"You think that, what?"_

_"I might be pregnant. I don't know for sure. I just know that we aren't ready for this. We barely know each other. We haven't even been married for two months. This can't be happening."_

* * *

Her ex-husband sits across the table from her. They sit in a restaurant, for lunch.

"Olivia, are you ok? You're being awfully quiet?" he questions, always being the first to call her out on things.

She shakes her head, "No."

"What's going on?"

"I've just been thinking a lot lately," she admits.

"Me too."

"I've been thinking about all of the missed opportunities. I wish that I didn't have any regrets about the way things ended between us."

"We were both a little bitter after the divorce. We said things, and did things that we didn't mean."

"I regret the way that I treated you."

"We were both young. Neither one of us was ready to be married."

"We should have tried harder."

"You never really talk about it."

"About what?"

"Having doubts about the divorce. I know that you did. You just never said anything."

"How could I? You didn't want to hear anything that I had to say."

"I was selfish."

"You moved on so quickly I didn't feel like I could say anything."

"Do you regret it?" he wonders.

"You're happily married?"

"She and I have grown apart. I am thinking about filing."

"What about the kids?"

"We will make it work for them. I just can't stay married to someone that I don't love anymore."

"I am not glad that you couldn't make it work, but I am glad you had the guts to admit you couldn't."

"I meet with a lawyer next week."

"Good."

"You know I hate that."

"Hate what?" she questions.

"When your tone doesn't match what you're trying to convey."

"I want to be happy for you, but I've heard all of this before."

"Not from me."

"But I have heard it before."

"And?"

"They always end up back together."

"I am not going back to her."

"Ok."

"Do you ever wish that we were still together?"

"Maybe sometimes," she admits.

"We would be at seventeen years by now."

"I know."

He scrutinizes her face. She breaks eye contact, knowing that he can read her too well.

"Olivia whatever it is, just say it."

"I can't," she insists.

"You and I both know it's worse if you don't."

"You are still married," she justifies it to herself.

"So? If you have something that you need to say to me, just spit it out."

"We got divorced," she points out.

"I know."

"But I don't know that my feelings for you ever changed."

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head, "Don't make me say it."

He nods, knowing exactly what she's telling him, "I'm glad that they haven't."

After work that night she finds that she isn't alone. She locks the apartment door, and he pushes her against it. Her ex-husband's lips seek hers. She kisses him back. Then the voice in her head starts screaming at her. She presses her hand on his chest, and pushes him away.

"We can't," she argues, "You're still married."

"It's over."

She shakes her head, "Vows are important to you."

He whispers in her ear, "I was yours first."

"We are divorced," she reminds him.

"It was a mistake. You know that."

"We made a lot of mistakes. I don't want this to be one of them."

"It's not."

"I don't want her to be right," she argues.

He leans forward to kiss her, but she keeps her distance. He searches her eyes, for the green light. He can see that she is trying to restrain herself.

"She already is," he whispers.

"I can't," she insists.

He presses his lip against her ear, "Then prove it."

She exhales. His challenge makes her want him move. She looks into his eyes, and finds it more difficult to resist his touch with every passing second. She throws caution to the wind, and presses her lips to his. Deciding that tonight, she doesn't care about being right, or wrong. Tonight, she doesn't want to be alone.


	8. Guilt

She opens her eyes, the following morning, and is instantly hit with regret. She finds herself wrapped in the arms of her ex-husband. She glances past him to her alarm clock. It tells her that she has to get up in half an hour. His grip tightens around her, as she shifts in bed. He kisses her bare shoulder. He opens his eyes, and looks at her.

"Good morning beautiful."

"You have to go," she tells him, her stomach twisting into knots.

"But..."

"No. This was a mistake. You have to go," she tells him.

"Olivia," he tries to reason with her.

"This can't happen again. You should go home to your wife."

"She's not there."

"Just go home."

"I don't want to."

"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

"Fine."

She climbs in the shower, just as the door to her apartment slams. She steps into the stream of hot water, knowing that despite her best efforts she won't be able to wash away the memories or regret of last night, or all of the nights that they have shared, before.

* * *

_February 14th 2013-_

_She's barely made it into the apartment, when the knocking starts. She checks the peephole, and pulls the door open. He steps inside, and closes the door. He grabs her by the waist, reaching for the belt around the waist of her coat. _

_"What are you doing here?_

_He doesn't answer her. He proceeds to remove her coat. He pulls her close, stealing a kiss._

_"I miss you," he whispers into her ear._

_"Now is not a good time."_

_"You always say that," he reminds her._

_"You're married," she points out._

* * *

She wonders if his Catholic guilt tries to eat him alive. She wonders if his Catholic guilt is worse than her regular guilt. Is she really naive enough to believe that he is going to leave his wife for her? Will he leave her at all? Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. His first marriage, to her, ended in divorce. His second marriage, she doubts will. He's said it so many times before, he doesn't believe in divorce.

* * *

He sits in confessional, before work. He leans forward, his hands rest on his knees. His fingers are intertwined, as if he is praying for forgiveness, before the priest can even hear his confession. The priest on the other side clears his throat.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have committed adultery, and broken my marriage vows."

"Forgive me for sounding judgmental, but I believe you confessed the same thing to me just last week."

* * *

_July 29th 1996-_

_When she gets home he is already there. She enters the kitchen, and finds that dinner is already cooked. She gives him a kiss, as she heads to her seat._

_"I'm sorry I was late. I got held up at work."_

_"I understand. I expect you to be late."_

_"I hope that you weren't waiting too long," she admits._

_He shakes his head, "I've only been home long enough to cook dinner, myself."_

_"Thanks, I appreciate it."_

_"You cooked for me last night, so I thought it was only fair."_

_"I love when you cook."_

_"I even did the dishes."_

_She smiles at him._

_"Dig in."_

_She looks down at the food on her plate. Her stomach does a flip flop. Without a word she shoves her chair away from the table, and scrambles from the room. _

_Moments later he waits for her, outside of the bathroom. He leans against the doorframe, as she comes out of the bathroom. She smells of scope, and toothpaste._

_"Liv, you ok?"_

_"I will be."_

_"How was your doctor's appointment this morning?"_

_"Fine."_

_"What did he say?"_

_"I am," she admits._

_He studies his wife. He wraps her in her arms. The teardrops start to fall, before she can stop them. _

_"It's ok. We'll figure it out," he promises._

_She hugs him tightly, "I don't know if I'm ready for this."_

* * *

He sits around the dining room table, with his kids. His wife is notably absent. The kids shovel food into their mouths, as if they haven't eaten all day. He stares at his plate of mac and cheese, and then looks at their faces.

"You guys act as if you didn't eat all day," he comments.

"We had a snack before you got home," his daughter admits.

"Then why are you eating like there is no tomorrow?"

"We just like your mac and cheese. It's the best," his son answers.

"At the rate you guys are going, I am going to have to make more."

"That's ok," his daughter smiles.

"And there is a baseball game on that we want to watch in a coouple of minutes," his son reveals.

He smiles at the kids, "I guess I can make an exception to the rules tonight. Finish your food, and put your plates in the dishwasher, and we can watch the game before you guys do your homework. You have to work on it during the commercials though."

"Ok," the agree.

* * *

She takes a seat on her couch, and flips on the TV. There is a baseball game on. She silently curses him. She can't watch baseball without thinking of him. Her heart aches, wondering if he's watching the same game.


	9. Chaos

He looks over, at her, and for a moment he feels happy. For a second he can almost forget about what happened in the past. He can almost convince himself that they never got divorced. He tries to pretend that he didn't remarry, and reproduce with someone else. He tries to pretend like none of it happened, but the guilty look on her face reminds him of the truth. They have been divorced for fourteen years. He's moved on, more than once, but he always finds his mind wandering back to her. He always ends up back in her bed.

She glances at him, with a shameful look. She wonders at what point she lost enough self worth to knowingly sleep with a married man. Even if he was hers first, he certainly isn't hers now. The fact that he's here tells her he was never really anyone else's. She wonders what their life would be like now, if she hadn't walked out. Would they still have such chemistry, or would they hate each other? Would they still want to be with each other, or would time take that too? There are so many things time has stolen from them. There are too many missed opportunities.

* * *

_August 12th 1999-_

_She knocks on the door of the home she's lived in, for years. The voice on the other side tells her to come in. She steps into the living room. She finds the box that she is looking for. He greets her at the door._

_"Is that everything?" she wonders._

_"I don't know," he shrugs, "Is it?"_

_She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out the keys. She places them in his hand. She picks the box up, off the floor. She looks around the room that is full of memories. Pictures hang on the wall of them, and their life together. _

_"I'm going to get going now."_

_He nods, "I guess that this is goodbye."_

_"I don't want this to be awkward. I'm sorry that it ended this way."_

_"Me too."_

_She turns, and heads for the door._

_"Aren't you forgetting something?"_

_She turns and looks at him. He points to the couch. Her glance falls on the couch. She take a deep breath, and clenches her jaw._

_"We had an agreement," she reminds him._

_"I am just giving you one more chance to change your mind."_

_"It has never been mine."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Yeah," she nods._

_"Olivia I don't want you to have any regrets about this. You were the wanted this, but it isn't too late to change your mind."_

_"It's too late to go back now," she argues._

* * *

His phone vibrates in the pocket of his pants. His pants lie on the floor. He slides out of bed, sliding his boxers on in the process. He grabs the phone, and checks the caller ID. He answers the phone.

"Hello? Speaking. Ok. I'll take care of it," he insists. He hangs up the phone, and looks at his ex-wife.

"Everything ok?"

"I have to go. That was my kid's coach."

"Oh."

"Guess who didn't show up to practice for the third day in a row?"

"Go," she insists.

"I'll see you," he promises.

He stares at his oldest child, who sits on the couch. He paces back and fourth, shaking his head. He wonders how to approach this. He wonders whether to be firm, or gentle. Should he lecture, or punish? Should he try to be calm, and understanding? The words come out before he can stop them.

"You want to tell me why you haven't been going to ball practice?"

"Dad I've been sick."

"You've been sick? That is news to me."

"I just don't feel good."

"Do you need to go to the doctor?"

"No."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not a big deal."

"Have you been going to school?"

"Of course."

"I had better not find out otherwise, and believe me, I will find out."

"I haven't been skipping school. I am a good kid."

"You've been out of school for a month, so I hope that is true."

"I swear."

"Why have you been skipping ball practice?"

"I told you I've been sick."

"Where are you going?"

* * *

_June 15th 1999-_

_She sits at a bar, staring at her half empty beer. Her eyes fall from her bottle of beer to the ring on her finger. She thinks of the events of the past months. She slips her wedding ring off, and places it on the bar. Three years of marriage, and she threw it all down the drain. _

* * *

She opens the drawer of her nightstand, and pulls out the Altoid box. She opens the tin, and stares at her wedding ring. It is just a plain gold band. There is nothing special about it. The knock on the door brings her back to reality. She drops the ring into the tin, and closes the lid. She returns to its hiding place in the drawer. She exits the room, and moves towards the door. She pulls the door open after she checks the peephole.

"I haven't heard from you in a couple of days are you ok?" Brian questions.

"Fine."

"I didn't mean to rush you. If you don't want to get married now, that's ok. Hell, if you don't ever want to get married, that is fine, too. I just want to be with you."

"Brian I can't be with you."

He stares at her in disbelief, "Excuse me?"

"I can't be with you."

"Why not?"

"I don't love you," she realizes.

The look on his face tells her his heart is breaking. "Oh."

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes.


	10. Breaking Point

She has just finished talking to Brian, when her phone rings. She is sitting in the living room, and her phone sits on the kitchen counter. She quickly glances at the number, and then answers.

"Benson," she replies.

"Hey, it's me."

"What's going on?"

"Look I don't know what to do. Can you come over?"

"What's going on?"

"It's my daughter. I don't know what has gotten into her. She has been skipping ball practice. She won't talk to me, and now she's locked herself in her room."

"Just let her cool down," Olivia suggests.

"I don't think that is going to work. She flipped her lid."

"Why?"

"It would be better if we had this discussion in person."

"She's your daughter."

"Olivia..." he tries to reason with her.

"Fine, I'll be there soon," she promises.

* * *

She enters his house. He is sitting in the living room, on the couch. He looks at her, in relief. He rises to greet her.

"I am glad that you're here."

"What's going on?"

"I asked her why she was cutting practice."

"What did she say?"

"She gave me some excuse about being sick."

"And?"

"One thing escalated to another. I accused her of..." he shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. Would you just talk to her, please?"

"Ok," Olivia agrees.

She walks down the hallway, to the only closed door. She knocks on the door.

"DAD! Go away! I told you that I don't want to talk," the angry voice on the other side screams at her.

"It's me," Olivia reveals.

"He called you? I can't believe him."

Olivia twists the knob, and enters the room. She closes the door behind her. The girl with long, thick, auburn locks. The teenager lies on the bed in a pair of athletic shorts, and her softball t-shirt.

"What's going on?" Olivia queries.

"You can't just barge in here. You don't live here."

"Brie tell me what happened."

She shakes her head, "I am not a little girl anymore. Olivia I don't want you here."

"Brielle just tell me what's going on. Why are you skipping practice?"

"Olivia it is not any of your business."

"Why did you lock yourself in here?"

"He didn't tell you what he asked me?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I told him that I wasn't feeling good, and he kept badgering me."

"And?"

"Then he had the cahones to ask me if I'm pregnant."

Olivia swallows hard, "Oh."

Brielle notices the look on her face. She shakes her head, in disbelief, "Don't," she warns.

"Are you?"

"You are unbelievable. You know that?"

* * *

_August 12th 1999-_

_She stares at the little girl on the couch. The little girl is wearing a dress, and her hair is pulled into a pair of pigtails. Her arms rest on the back of the couch. Her head rests on her fists. She stares at Olivia with a pair of dark eyes. Olivia turns, and leaves the house. The door closes. The little girl can't hold back her tears anymore. She screams after her. _

_"Come back! Mommy!" she wails. _

_He approaches the couch. He scoops her up, into his arms. He holds her close, trying the reassure her. She squirms, and tries to kick, and hit him._

_"No!" she shouts, "Make her come back," the tears trail down her face. _

_He patiently wipes the tears from her eyes, and plants a kiss on her cheek. _

_"Calm down. Brielle I love you. I am never going anywhere."_

_Her lip quivers, "But I want her."_

_"Since when? You're daddy's little girl."_

_"Make her come back," she begs._

_"I can't."_

_"I want my mommy!"_

_His heart breaks for his little girl. Eventually she falls asleep, in his arms. _

* * *

"Why did he ask?"

Brielle shakes her head, "You don't get to ask that."

"Brie, be reasonable."

"Be reasonable? What the hell are you even doing here?"

"Watch your language."

"Don't come in here acting like my savior."

"I'm not."

"You have absolutely no right to be here."

"Brie..." she tries to negotiate.

"Don't come in her acting like you're my mother."

"Brie please just talk to me."

"No!"

"Please," Olivia begs.

"You're not my mother. You don't know me. You walked out fourteen years ago. You don't get to pretend to be interested in my life now."

"Brie I'm sorry."

"Don't call me that. I hate it! My name is Brielle."

"Brielle I am sorry."

"You're always sorry, and nothing ever changes."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to leave. Now!"

"You have to talk to someone."

She shakes her head, "It sure as hell doesn't have to be you."


	11. Killing Me

She exits the room, feeling defeated. She heads into the living room to converse with her ex-husband.

"Can you explain to me why you asked her if she was pregnant?"

"While I was in the middle of trying to figure out why she was skipping practice I got a call from my mother. She wanted to let me know that some of the church ladies happened to see Brielle with some boy."

"And?"

"They were in his car, making out."

"What do you know about this boy?"

"His name is Jace."

"Did you ask her about him?"

"Yeah. She told me that I was blowing things out of proportion."

"Do you think that you were?" Olivia questions.

"After I asked her if she was pregnant, and she stormed off I made some phone calls. I found out that Jace is nineteen, almost twenty, and that he is an aspiring rapper. He has already been arrested three times, and he has at least one kid."

"Why would she want to hang out with him?"

"Because he is the last person on earth I would ever want her to be with."

"You think that she is doing this out of spite?" Olivia raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know," he shrugs.

"Do you really buy that she was sick?"

"I don't know."

"Do you really think she's pregnant? She's so young."

"I want to say no, but she is home alone, a lot. I try to be around, but she doesn't want me here. She would rather be with my mother."

"She is just a baby," Olivia comments.

"She is a rebellious teenager who hates the world."

"I know. I'll try to talk to her."

"Best of luck."

* * *

Olivia returns to Brielle's bedroom. She steps in, and closes the door behind her.

"Look Brielle I know that you don't want to talk to me. I know you don't want to talk to your father. You have to give us some sort of explanation."

"Who do you think that you are? You were never around. You didn't raise me. My grandmother raised me."

"Brielle I have made mistakes.

Brielle shakes her head in disbelief, "Do you know what my first memory of you is?"

Olivia shakes her head, "No, it's hard to tell."

"I remember you taking me to the park, and letting me push my doll in her stroller that I got for my birthday."

* * *

_July 10th-_

_She watches as the little girl with wavy hair pushes her pink stroller. The little girl wears a pink dress, and a pair of sunglasses. She stops to check that her baby is securely fastened, and she continues walking. She looks up at Olivia, and smiles._

* * *

"I remember that."

"Do you know what my second memory of you was?"

"Olivia shakes her head."

"My second memory was you leaving."

"I'm sorry."

"You were supposed to be there for me, and you weren't."

"I have made a lot of mistakes. Can we please have an adult conversation here?"

Brielle shakes her head, "I am not sure that I see any adults in this room."

"Please," she begs.

"Why now? Why are you here now?"

"Your father asked me to come."

"He shouldn't have to. I don't want you here."

"Please talk to me. He is worried about you."

"He shouldn't be."

"Tell me about Jace," Olivia insists.

"What about him?"

"Anything."

"He is my boyfriend," she admits.

"Don't you think that he's a little bit too old for you?"

"Why do you care?"

"I care about you. I have always cared about you."

"You certainly have a funny way of showing it."

"You are wasting your time."

"I am not going to judge you. Just tell me the truth."

"You'll just preach to me."

"Your father didn't raise you to be in a car making out with some boy in the church parking lot."

"He didn't raise me, and neither did you. My grandmother raised me."

"Your father has always been there for you."

"The two of your were so busy chasing your freaking dreams that you forgot about having a kid at home. I would cry myself to sleep at night, waiting for you to come home. You never did."

"I'm sorry. I am sorry that I made terrible choices."

"Why did you leave me?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I already don't. Maybe you should try to explain it."

"I almost killed you."

"What?!"

* * *

_October 23rd 1998-_

_She's been up for over twenty four hours when she goes to pick Brielle up from her grandmother's. She secures the little girl in the backseat in her car seat. It is rainy, and as it grows closer to dark it grows colder too. The roads are slick, and Olivia can barely keep her eyes open. She stops at a stop sign. She looks in all four directions, and then accelerates through the stop sign. As she reaches the intersection a car moves towards the stop sign on her right. She realizes all too late that the car isn't going to stop. She tries to make it through the intersection, but the car broad sides her. The car spins until it stops. Her airbag deploys, and throws her backward. Finally when the car stops she looks in the rearview mirror at the sleeping toddler. The car faces the wrong direction. The back seat, driver's side of the car rests against a sign. Olivia struggles to get her seat belt off. Finally she breaks free, and climbs out of the car. She finds that the passenger side door is too damaged for her to open it. She tries the other door, but she can't get it open. She smells gasoline leaking. She returns to the front of the car. She climbs over the console, and into the backseat. She unbuckles the car seat, and lifts the little girl out. She carefully removes her from the back seat, and then out of the car. _

* * *

"You never told me that."

"I know."

"It's not an excuse to leave."

"It wasn't the only reason that I left."

Brielle disagrees, "It wasn't a reason to leave me. It was an accident."

"I know."

Brielle blinks away tears, "I am your only child, and you walked away from me."


	12. Rebellion

The words fall from the girl's mouth, and hit Olivia like daggers. She chokes back tears.

"If you couldn't make your marriage work, I can understand that. You cut your losses, and walked away from my dad. That doesn't bother me. What makes me angry is that you walked away from me. And the worst part is that it didn't even bother you."

Olivia shakes her head, "You're wrong. It bothered me every single day. Everything made me think of you. My heart ached to be with you every second of every single day."

"Then why didn't you come back for me?"

"I knew that you would have a better support system with your dad, and your grandmother. I am only one person. I knew that you would spend more time with a babysitter, than you would with me. I didn't want that for you."

"You could have made a compromise."

"Brielle I really screwed up. I tried to be there when I could."

"That isn't good enough. Being a parent is not a part time job.""I know that. I really screwed up the only thing in my life that means anything."

"You are my mother, and you barely know me."

Olivia doesn't have anything to say in response.

"Every other weekend, every other holiday, and summers? That wasn't enough time with you. All I needed was you, and you couldn't see that."

"I did."

"Why didn't you let me live with you?"

"Because I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"I knew with your dad, or your grandma someone would always have eyes on you. I was terrified that if I had you all the time that somewhere between school, and the babysitter, and home that something would happen to you. I was afraid that my worst nightmares would come true. I didn't want you to be a little girl who had something happen to her, because I wasn't paying enough attention. I know that I was wrong. While I was trying to protect you, the best way that I knew how I missed being in your life."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I just want to be left alone."

"We aren't done."

"Why do you care now?"

"I have always cared."

"You have done a really shitty job of showing it."

"I know that. I had a terrible example."

"You can't blame every mistake that you have made in your life on your alcoholic mother, and rapist father. You have to be accountable for your actions, ok?"

"You are absolutely right."

"You screwed up."

"I have every intention of rectifying that."

"Ok."

"I think you need to come live with me."

She furrows her brow, "Why? Why now?"

"Because I have missed enough of your life."

"Basically my dad thinks that I am a handful, and doesn't know what to do with me, so this is you trying to help?"

Olivia shakes her head, "This is me trying to be your mother."

"It is a little bit late now."

"It is better late than never, don't you think?"

"I don't want to."

"Too bad," Olivia argues.

"When?"

"Monday."

"Monday? You really expect me to be ready by Monday? Is there even anywhere for me to stay at your place? Is my room still full of all your junk."

"I will clean your room up."

"Can you go now?"

"Fine," Olivia agrees.

* * *

She exits the room. She finds her ex-husband in the living room.

"How did it go?" he questions.

"Terribly."

"What did she say?"

"About what?"

"Being pregnant?"

"She was disgusted that you would even ask such a thing."

He furrows his brow, "It is a legitimate concern."

"I know."

"So what are we going to do?"

"I am going to have her move in with me."

"Why?"

"It is time to fix the things that I broke," she admits.

"When?"

"Monday."

"I have to work."

"I know. I will talk to your mother. Have her drop her off on Monday at my place."

"What about the pregnancy issue?"

"I will set up an appointment for her Monday morning."

"I'll talk to my mother. I think this is something that she should hear from me."

"Ok," Olivia agrees.

"Liv are you sure about this?"

"Yeah."

"She is a handful," he points out.

"She is my daughter. She is right, I have done a terrible job being her mother. I walked out on her. I can't take that back."

"You had your reasons."

"There aren't any good enough to walk out on her."

"I understand why you did it."

"She was a baby. She needed me, and I was selfish."

"We have all been selfish. I chose work over her, too. My mother was always there to pick up the slack. I didn't realize that it was effecting Brie as much as it did."

"Hindsight is twenty, twenty."

"Do you think she was sleeping with this boy?"

"Let's see, she is sixteen years old, she hates the both of us, and wants to get back at us. What better way than to sleep with a nineteen year old hoodlum?"

"I hope she's not."

"Me too," she admits.


	13. Nightmare

She is sitting across from her partner, in the squad room. They sit at their desk, working on early morning paperwork, since they haven't been called to a crime scene yet. She sits with her back to the door of the bull pen. She hears footsteps approaching, but she remains focused on her paperwork. Nick looks up from his desk. The familiar face stares back at him, unsmiling. He furrows his brow.

"Hey," he smirks.

"I'm here to see Olivia," she comments.

Olivia turns around, and looks at the woman standing before her.

"Can we talk?" the woman asks.

Olivia nods, and pushes her seat away from the desk. She vacates the seat, and follows the woman into the hallway.

"What's going on?"

"We should talk outside," she insists.

Olivia nods, and follows her into the elevator. They remain silent, until they get outside. When Olivia reaches the sidewalk she turns to the familiar woman, and asks, "What's up?"

She points to her car. Olivia looks at the teenager inside. Olivia opens the door of the car, and climbs inside the back seat. The woman gets into the driver's seat. She closes the door behind her. The engine of the car is running, and the windows are rolled up. The doors lock, and Olivia stares at her daughter.

"You've got to tell her Brie," she insists.

"Tell me what?" Olivia shoots her daughter a questioning look. The teenager stares back at her, with a red face. She doesn't answer Olivia.

"You tell her," Brie insists.

"Brie," the voice from the front seat warns, "It is not my place to tell her. You are the one who needs to initiate this conversation."

Brie looks at Olivia, and shakes her head. She pops the lock on her door, and scrambles out. "I can't," she insists.

Olivia moves forward, in an urge to chase after the teenager.

"Let her go," she warns.

"What is going on?" Olivia wonders.

"I took Brie to the doctor this morning, like you asked."

"I had them do an STD panel, and a pregnancy test."

"She was incredibly hurt by the fact that you didn't believe her."

"I wanted to," Olivia admits.

"She has been crying since we got to the doctor's office."

"Did the tests show anything?"

"Yes," she confirms.

Olivia's heart drops, "What?"

"She's pregnant."

Olivia rubs her temples, "No."

"She admitted to me that she has known for weeks."

"Why didn't she say something? Why didn't she tell someone?"

"She was afraid. Can you blame her?"

"No. She hates me, and she has every right to. She doesn't feel like she can tell me anything. And her father..." she trails off.

"Is very firm in his beliefs. She said that she was afraid to tell him. She didn't know what she wanted to do."

"And, if he found out he wouldn't let her have any choices."

"Olivia I know that you and I have not always seen eye to eye, but you are more open minded than my son is. I have always appreciated that about you. I don't always agree with the choices you have made regarding my granddaughter, but I know that you will do the right thing here."

"And what do you think that is, exactly?"

"I just know she shouldn't have to give up on her dreams because she made a mistake. She shouldn't have to live her life resenting a child who had no choice in the matter."

"This is my fault. I have completely failed her."

"Olivia it is never too late to start over."

"I can't fix this."

"I know, but you are the one that she needs right now."

"She hates me."

"No, she doesn't."

"I am pretty sure that she does."

"You were the first person that she asked for today."

"And then she ran away from me."

"She was afraid to tell you. I think that she was embarrassed."

Olivia's phone vibrates, "That is my captain. I probably have a case."

"Go. Take care of it. I'll have her moved into your place when you get home. You can deal with it then."

"Are you sure?"

"I will make sure that she is ok."

"Ok."

"And Liv, whatever you do, please don't tell him."

"I won't," she promises.

* * *

She finds herself completely distracted the entire rest of the day. Her partner picks up on her distraction. He finally confronts her about it, as the day draws to a close. They have just finished their interrogation.

"What's going on with you?" Nick questions.

"Nothing," she lies.

"You have been distracted all day."

"I am fine," she insists.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"And if you weren't?"

"I would tell you."

"What was that chat about, earlier?"

"Nothing."

"She had you leave the squad room."

"There are a lot of ears in the squad room. It was a private conversation."

"About what?"

"Nothing."

"It seemed like something," he comments.

"I promise you, it wasn't."

"You would tell me if it was?"

"Of course," she promises.


	14. Unthinkable

When she gets home she finds the only light in the apartment is from the glow of the TV in her living room. She flips on the kitchen light, as she carries in groceries. She puts the groceries away, and heads for the living room. She flips on the lamp, and finds her daughter lying on the couch. She lifts Brie's legs, and takes a seat on the couch.

"You wanna talk about it?" Olivia questions.

"Nope."

"Please."

"I don't want to talk about it," Brie insists.

"You have talk about it at some point."

"I don't see why."

"Because it isn't going to go away."

"I went away, didn't I?"

"Brielle, please. Can we have a civil conversation about this?"

"I don't want to have a civil conversation about this."

"Please."

"What is there to talk about? I am sixteen, and pregnant. I got shipped off to live here, with you. Everything about my life sucks right now."

"What do you want to do?"

Brielle makes eye contact. Her facial expression changes, "What do you mean?"

"Brie you are sixteen years old. If you think that I expect you to have this baby, and raise is, I don't. I expect you to make the best decision for you. I know that you don't dream about diapers, and raising a baby at sixteen years old."

"I just wish that none of this ever happened."

"I know, but you can't take it back now."

"It's not fair."

"I know."

"I don't want to do this," Brie admits.

"I am not asking you to. No one expects you to."

"Did you tell dad?"

"No. I didn't tell him."

"But he'll find out."

"He doesn't have to know."

"I can't do this."

"Ok."

"But not for the reasons that you think."

"Then tell me," Olivia begs.

"I am not naive. I'm not stupid."

"I know that."

"I," she swallows hard, "I didn't lie to you."

Olivia furrows her brow, "What?"

"I didn't lie to you. I didn't sleep with Jace. I wasn't dating him."

"But you were making out with him, in a car?"

"Once. After I found out who he really was it ended there. I haven't seen him in weeks."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because the last thing I want to do is disappoint anyone. I know you probably thought that I was being rebellious, and I was, but I am not stupid. I didn't sleep with him."

"So then you have a boyfriend?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"One of your friends?"

"Not exactly."

"Brielle you're pregnant. What happened?"

"It is a long story."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I was contacted by the narcotics unit."

"About what?"

"Helping them out."

"You are a minor. Why would they ask you?"

"I wanted to do it."

"Your dad agreed?"

"I forged his signature."

"Brie. What does this have to do with you getting pregnant?"

"I was supposed to go to a couple of clubs. The guys from narcotics were there too."

"What were you supposed to be doing in a club? You're sixteen. How did you even get in?"

"They gave me fake i.d.'s."

"So let me guess, when it was all over you went to the club with your fake i.d. that they let you keep?"

"Yes."

"Why were you at a club?"

"I wasn't drinking. I swear. I just went there to see a band."

"To see a band? Brie I want to believe you right now, but I have been a cop for a long time. You expect me to believe what you're trying to sell me, right now?"

"I went to see a band. I have flyer. It was signed by the band."

Olivia tries to figure out where this is going, "Did you get to meet the band?"

"Yes. I went backstage, and I got to meet them."

"What kind of a band are they?"

"Heavy metal."

"You like heavy metal?"

"The drummer from the band goes to my school. He is really cute, and..."

Olivia cuts her off, "So you went to see the drummer, not the band?"

"It is difficult to get noticed, when you are in the same uniform that everyone else wears."

"You wanted to prove to him that you were cool enough to get into a nightclub?"

"Yes."

"And I am guessing that it worked."

"I just wanted to meet him," Brie explains.

"Brie you're pregnant."

Brielle shakes her head, "You act as if I did it on purpose. Why in the hell would I do that? I don't want to throw my life away."

"So what happened?"

"It didn't go the way that I planned."

"So what happened?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so just forget it," Brielle leaves the couch, and runs to her room. Olivia grabs the flyer off the coffee table. She reads the flyer to herself. The name of the band. Each band member. A partial set list. Some sharpie scribbles supposed to pass as autographs. She reaches the bottom, and looks at the date. Her heart sinks.


	15. Worse Than A Nightmare

She goes down the hallway towards Brie's room. She doesn't knock on the door, when she reaches the room. She twists the doorknob, and pushes the door open. Brielle sits on her bed. Olivia enters the room. She holds up the flyer.

"This flyer is from months ago," Olivia comments.

"I know," Brielle admits, as she takes the flyer from her.

"It isn't as if this flyer is from two months ago. It's not even from three months ago."

"I know."

"Brie that is from February."

"I know."

"It's from Valentine's day," Olivia adds.

"Yeah," Brie nods.

"That is twenty one weeks ago," Olivia realizes.

"Yes, I know."

"Why would you hide it for so long? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You aren't around much. Actually you're never around."

"You could have called me. Brie you could have told me," Olivia insists.

"No, I couldn't. I couldn't tell anyone," she argues, on the verge of tears.

"How long have you known?"

"Not long enough."

"How long?"

"Ten weeks."

"Ten weeks? You've known for ten weeks, and you didn't tell anyone?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Why didn't you know before?"

Brie shakes her head, "Because I didn't want to," she blinks away tears.

Olivia takes a seat on the edge of Brie's bed. She stares at her daughter. The look in the young girl's eyes is one that she's seen before. Olivia's stomach twists into knots.

"Brie how did you get pregnant?"

"It was an accident."

"Tell me how it happened," Olivia begs.

"I went backstage to meet the band. It was loud there were a lot of people there. Kevin told me that we could go outside, where it was quieter. We went to a diner, around the corner to get burgers. After we ate I wasn't feeling good."

Olivia interrupts her, "Did you leave your drink unattended?"

"I went to the bathroom."

"Ok. Then what happened?"

"He offered to drive me home," she stops.

"Brielle just tell me what happened. It's ok."

She shakes her head, "No, it's not ok. None of this is ok."

"What happened?"

"I laid my seat back, after we left the restaurant. I fell asleep. When I woke up we were parked under some bridge..." she trails off.

"What happened?"

"He was supposed to be a nice guy."

"Brielle why didn't you call me? You could have called me."

"I knew that you were at work."

"It doesn't matter. I would have come."

"I didn't want you to know. I thought I could handle it."

"Did you tell someone, anyone?"

"He left me there. I walked to the nearest police station. When I told them what happened..." she trails off.

"What did they say?"

"They took me to the hospital."

"Why didn't they call me, or your dad?"

"I don't know. When they took my statement, and I told them who it was, it was like they didn't believe me. I don't even know what they did with my stuff. They took me home after that."

Olivia swallows hard, "Did they do a rape kit?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"And a toxicology report?"

"They drew my blood," she confirms.

"You didn't take the morning after pill?"

"I wasn't offered one. The detective told the nurse to have to doctor discharge me, because there was some mistake."

"You should have called me."

"They didn't believe me. When I told them my name, and where I had been, it was like the truth just didn't matter to them. Once they found out who he was, everything stopped."

"Who is he?"

"Kevin Hartwick."

"His father is a high power corporate attorney?"

"Yeah."

"Why does he go to your school?"

"He doesn't now, he graduated."

"Why was he at your school?"

"He got kicked out of all the private schools, and his dad wouldn't spend anymore money on another one, and they wouldn't accept him."

"Kicked out for what?"

"He told me that they were all misunderstandings."

"Did the police question him?"

She shakes her head, "I don't even think they took the evidence into custody. They thought I was some minority from the wrong neighborhood, making up false accusations about some rich kid."

"What precinct was it?"

"Obviously the wrong one."

"Which precinct?"

"The 46th."

"The 46th? What were you doing in the Bronx?"

"I told you."

Olivia takes a deep breath, "This wasn't your fault."

"Please don't tell dad."

"Brielle that is up to you, whether you want to tell him or not."

"It's not like I can hide it. It is too late now, isn't it?"

"That is really up to you."

"I don't want a baby. I..." she trails off as tears stream down her face.

Olivia wipes the tears from her face, "You still are a baby."

"It's too late for me to make it go away."

"What do you want to do?"

"Find someone who wants it."

"We can do that," Olivia nods.

"You're angry aren't you?"

"Not at you," Olivia admits.

"I think I just want to go to bed."

"It's only nine o'clock."

"It has been a really long day."

"That's fine. I have some things I need to take care of anyway."

"You're going to go to the 46th precinct aren't you?"


	16. Truth, and An Excuse

She sits at a bar a few blocks from her apartment. She ignores her vibrating phone, knowing that it's only a text message. She sits at the table, alone nursing a beer. She wants to be able to forget the events of the day, but she can't. She listens to the sounds around her. She tries to remain distracted, and ignore the situation at hand. Footsteps approach her, and she looks up. She finds a familiar figure standing before her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've been trying to get a hold of you," her ex-husband informs her.

"Is something wrong?"

"I thought that we should talk," he suggests.

"About what?"

"Brie."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What choice do we have? At some point we have to address the elephant in the room."

She shakes her head, "Which one?"

"Liv, come on," he begs her, with pleading eyes.

"I completely failed as a parent."

"What makes you say that?"

"My daughter just told me a bold faced lie. She tried to sell me this sob story, and I bought it. Like a total idiot I believed her."

"What did she tell you?"

"It doesn't matter," she insists.

"Clearly it was something that upset you."

"I ended up at the forty sixth precinct ready to tear someone a new one, for not doing their jobs."

"And?"

"They informed me that Brie was arrested six months ago."

"For what? Are you telling me that she already has an arrest record?"

Olivia shakes her head, "Luckily, no."

"What happened? What did she get arrested for?"

"Underage consumption."

"What?!"

"She used a fake I.D. to get into a club. She refused a breathalizer, and she surrendered her fake I.D. She told them that she was your daughter, and they let her go. They made the charges disappear."

"Why didn't they call me?"

"She convinced them not to."

"Are you freaking kidding me? What is going on with her?"

"She's spiraling out of control. She has been lying to us. Obviously she's been sneaking out. She's been drinking. I really don't know how much worse this can get. We really screwed up here."

"She's just going through a faze," he insists.

"A faze? She is doing everything she can possibly do to get our attention, and we are to busy to even notice her. What kind of parents are we?"

"Where is she now?"

"At home."

"Are you sure?"

Olivia looks at her watch, "I should go make sure."

"I'll come with you."

"No," Olivia shakes her head.

He lets her walk away.

* * *

When Olivia arrives at her apartment she makes a beeline for her second bedroom. She pushes the door open, and flips on the bedroom light. She finds her daughter lying in bed.

"I was asleep!" Brie growls.

"Brielle, what is going on with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You lied to me," Olivia takes a seat on the bed, next to her.

Brie faces the wall, she refuses to make eye contact.

"Please answer me!"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Why did you lie to me?"

"Who said that I did?"

"Brie I went to the forty sixth. I talked to the officer that arrested you. Why don't you try telling me the truth instead of whatever twisted version you think is going to make me feel like an even worse parent than I already do."

"Most of what I said was true."

"I want the truth."

"I got the fake I.D. from a friend. I did go to see the band."

"And?"

"I got busted."

"You were drinking?"

"I wasn't drinking."

"They were going to charge you with underage consumption."

"I had a beer in my hand, but I wasn't drinking."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Olivia cocks an eyebrow.

"You don't believe me anyway, so why does it matter."

"Please just tell me the truth," Olivia begs.

"I had a few sips, but I really don't like the taste of beer. I did go there for the reason that I told you. I went to see the band."

"But?"

"I was backstage when we got busted. They hauled him in too. When he told them who is father was, they let him go. He offered me a ride home."

"What really happened?"

Brie rolls over, and looks at her, "It wasn't rape."

"Why," Olivia raises her voice, "would you tell me that it was?"

Brie shrugs, "I don't know. You were already so disappointed in me. I thought maybe you wouldn't..." she trails off.

"I wouldn't what?" Olivia questions.

"Be so angry at me."

"I am angry because you lied to me."

"You're always angry. For as long as I can remember you've been angry at the world, and at me."

"I am sorry that you feel that way. Brie I wasn't angry with you."

"You were never there for me."

"I made a mistake."

Brie corrects her, "A lot of them."

"You're sixteen years old, you're angry, you're disobedient, you're rebellious, you could be me at that age."

"At least your mother had an excuse for not wanting you."


	17. Failure

"Excuse me?"

"She was raped. She had an excuse."

"There is no excuse."

"What is your excuse? Why didn't you want me?"

"I always wanted you," Olivia argues.

"You walked out on me. You left me. I grew up in a house with no mother. How did you ever expect me to turn out ok? Your mother was screwed up, but at least she was there. Maybe she wasn't emotionally available, but physically she was present. You weren't. How could I not have a screwed up childhood? My parents are both cops, and neither of them were around much. All I ever had was a grandmother. A grandmother who should have gotten the chance to just be my grandparent, but instead she had to raise me. It wasn't her job."

"Brie how many times do I have to apologize. What do I have to do to make you see that I am sorry?"

"It doesn't matter that you're sorry, just like it doesn't matter that I'm sorry I lied to you."

"It's different."

"Don't you think that I know that? I needed you. I wanted to talk to you. I couldn't talk to my dad. You know how judgmental he is. You know how old fashioned he is. I needed you, and you weren't around."

"And I am never ever going to forgive myself for that. All I can do is try to make it up to you, now."

"It's too late. Can't you see that? It is too late to fix me now. I am just a screw up. I threw away the only good thing that I had going for me. Softball was my ticket out. I would have been able to get a scholarship to go wherever I wanted, and you know that. I am not trying to be arrogant, but we both know I am that good. Now it's all over. I made a decision that I can't take back. I have known for four months, and I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't tell anyone."

"You said that you only knew for a little while."

"I lied about that too."

"Why?"

"It's what I know. My entire life has been a lie. I knew I should have told someone, but I couldn't. I just kept hoping that it would go away. And I know that I am an awful person, but I prayed that something awful would happen, and I wouldn't have to deal with it."

"You should have come to me."

"How? I barely see you. I rarely talk to you. When would I have told you? You are always too busy for me. It's one case, and then another. You always blow me off. You always have somewhere else that you need to be. I have never been your priority. I don't understand why you are pretending to care now."

"I am not pretending. Brielle I love you more than anything in the world."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I have made some monumental mistakes, but I promise you that I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you sure about that? I am sixteen, and I'm pregnant. I lie. I make stupid decisions. I..."

"I am not going anywhere."

"History says otherwise," Brielle points out.

"I'm here now."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I just want to go to sleep. I am exhausted."

"Did you tell him?" Olivia wonders.

"Who, dad?"

"The baby's father?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Is he who you say he is?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"Why haven't you told him?"

"I don't want to ruin things between us."

"Excuse me? Are you saying that you have a relationship with him?"

"Yes."

"Brie he is going to find out."

"I hope not."

"You have to tell him."

"His father is a very important man."

"And?"

"He could end your career," Brielle points out.

"You are more important than my career."

"Most of the time I doubt that."

"It is true."

"How are you going to help me, if you are out of a job? If he ends your job, dad's will be over too, you know that. Then what?"

"Speaking of him, you need to tell him."

"No. He can't find out. Please don't tell him."

"I am not going to tell him, you are."

"I don't want him to know."

"He is going to find out."

"Not yet."

* * *

He opens his door. Olivia enters the room. He closes the door behind her.

"What's going on?" he questions, furrowing her brow, dissatisfied with the look on her face.

"We have to fix this," she tells him.

"Fix what, Olivia?"

"Fix her," she answers.

"I thought that is what you were trying to do."

"I can't do it on my own. We're going to have to do this together. She needs both of us."

"I know."

"How did we make such a mess of this?"

"We let our egos get in the way."

"How did we let our child take a backseat to our careers? What kind of parents are we? We robbed her of her childhood."

"I think about all of the mistakes that I made with her, and..." he trails off.

"And, what?"

He clears his throat, "I knew better. I consciously decided not to make them with my other children. I did the best that I could for them. I was there for my other daughter every step of the way. And somehow, I managed to completely alienate Brie. I feel like a failure as her father. She is so angry. I am at a loss, I don't know how to help her. What are we supposed to do to help her? How do we fix this? I mean where do we even begin?"

"Nick, I don't know."


	18. True Confessions

"You wanna drink?" he questions.

She simply nods. He heads to the kitchen, and pours them a couple of drinks. She waits for him in the living room. Without a word he returns to her. She takes a look at him, and then plants herself on the couch. He takes a seat next to her, sitting her drink on the coffee table in front of her. She reaches forward, grabbing the glass. She swallows the liquor, and then turns to him. He places his empty glass beside hers on the coffee table.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"Did any of this end up the way that you pictured it?"

"No," she admits.

"This isn't what I pictured either. When we got married..."

She cuts him off, "You were so young."

He shakes his head, "But I was ready."

"And I wasn't. I still don't know if I am."

"The entire time that I have known you, you have been looking for something. Did you ever find it?"

"Nick, I..." her voice cracks, "Before I met you I had this idea of how things were going to go. I naively thought that I could have it all. I thought that I would be more than I am now, have more than I do. I thought by now I would be sitting behind the Captain's desk. I thought I would climb the ladder."

"You wanted the career more than you wanted..."

She cuts him off, "No. I wanted that too. I wanted to be married to you. You are the only person that I could ever imagine being married to. I thought that we could make things work. I thought that there would be a happily ever after. I really believed that my plan would work. We would wait a few years, and have a baby, and then maybe have another a few years after that. We would be a team, a united front, and make it work. We had the tools to make it work. I thought that I could have the marriage, and the family, and the job. I thought I could do all of it, and get further than I am now."

"What happened? What happened to your plan? What happened to us?"

"I wasn't ready."

"To be married?"

"That either."

"For Brie?"

"I was still trying to figure out who I was. I tried so hard to adjust to being a wife. I _wanted_ to be your wife."

"But?"

"I only wanted it, if I could be a great wife. Just when I was finally beginning to feel like I was beginning to figure out how to make it all work I found out I was pregnant. I have always wanted a child. I have to admit that I wasn't prepared. I didn't expect it to happen so fast."

"I know."

"You both needed me so much, and I let both of you down. Every single day I would come home, and I would feel like I was letting someone down. I felt torn, and conflicted all of time. I love her so much. I was just completely overwhelmed. Every night when I came home I just wanted a minute to myself. I needed a hot shower to scrub away the horrors of the day."

"But the second you walked in the door you had to be my wife, and her mother?"

"She would need me from the second that I walked in the door. I have never loved someone so much in my entire life. Until she was born, I didn't even know that it was possible to love someone that much."

"So, why did you walk away?"

"I felt like I was letting you guys down. I sincerely thought that she would be better off without me. You were, you are such an incredible father. I thought that she would be okay."

"Olivia she needed you."

"I know," a single tear begins to trail down her cheek.

"I needed you."

"I know. I got scared, and overwhelmed. Instead of talking about it, or asking for help I did what I always do. I built a wall. I shut the people that I love the most out. I thought I would be able to take some time, and get myself together. Every day that I was away from her it hurt that much more. One day I woke up, and I realized that it was too late. You hated me, and she could never forgive me."

"You're wrong."

"Are you honestly going to sit there, and tell me that you didn't hate me?"

"I won't lie to you. Part of me hated you, but the other part still loved you. I hated what you did to my daughter. I hated that you tore my family apart. Every night I would go to sleep with a little girl in my bed, who just wanted her mom," he clenches his jaw trying to keep from crying, "She just wanted you."

"She hates me. I don't think that she will ever forgive me. I can't even blame her for that. I had everything. I had a home to come home to. I had the job. I had people that I loved, a husband, and a daughter, and I walked away from all of it. I walked away from it, and I destroyed the only things," the tears fall more freely now, "the only people that I cared about."

He leans forward, and wraps her in his arms. She clings to him as the tears stream down her face. After several moments she lets go. He looks at her, brushing her hair off her shoulder.

"I still love you," he admits.

She shakes her head, "Don't. Please don't say that."

"It's true."

"I have made such a mess of everything. I don't deserve your love."

"I am not blameless here. I made a lot of mistakes too. I let you walk away. I didn't fight hard enough for you."

"You did everything that you could."

"When you left I let myself fall apart. I let my mother raise our daughter. I chose the job over her, too. She is the way that she is, because of both of us."

"How are we supposed to fix her, when we're both broken?"

"Maybe we should fix us first."

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"You know I find myself wondering what it would be like a lot," he begins.

"What do you mean?"

"I wonder how our lives would be different if you never walked away."

"We would probably still be divorced, and way more bitter."

"Not the way I imagine it," he admits.

"What are we going to do for our daughter?"

"Work on ourselves. Work on how to be parents, together. That is all that we can do."

"That won't make Brielle's problems disappear," she points out.

"It's a start."

"Nick I think that it's going to be too little, too late."

"There is still hope. We can fix this."

"Amaro, we can't fix this."

"Why not?"


End file.
